


The Way I Am

by feelmyheartout



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelmyheartout/pseuds/feelmyheartout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire is a woman plagued with bad luck. That is, until she meets Henry on her flight to London. As a workaholic, she does not realize his celebrity status, yet she will soon find out the charming gentleman who had been seated beside her is more than just your Average Joe. With romantic complications in her past, a boss who pushes her limits, and a new found attraction to Mr. Henry Cavill, will Claire find herself in London or crash and burn instead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Shit, shit, shit…” Claire muttered as she all but ran through the airport trying to find her terminal. Because of a debacle with a man who liked to call himself her boyfriend, she was cutting it extremely close. And now, with five minutes to spare, she would barely catch her flight. Claire weaved through the crowds, zig zagging among people left and right. “Shit!” she exclaimed once more, though this time it ended up as more of a squeal. By rolling her carry on so quickly, she had managed to trip herself up in the process. Claire regained her bearings, pausing to straighten her top as she did so. Though, in all honesty, she didn’t look much more put together. With a hooded sweatshirt and yoga pants, she made quite the fashion statement. But she was flying; comfort ranked higher than style in such circumstances. As she turned her gaze forward once more, Claire noticed an irritated looking mother just beside her. Her sailor’s mouth was not acceptable to this woman with a toddler in tow. “Sorry, sweetie. Don’t say bad words,” Claire offered with as genuine of a smile as she could muster. She then went off on her way again, doing her best to remain on her feet. 

With only seconds to spare, Claire wound her way to the tail end of the line, if you could even call it that. There was one man before her, and she received a sorry looking stare from the employee at the gate once it was her turn. “Cutting it close, ma’am,” he counseled as he took her ticket.  
“I hadn’t noticed,” Claire grumbled under her breath, not in the mood for sarcasm at this point. 

Less than ten minutes later, she rested in her seat near the back of the plane. Resting, though…that was something that Claire didn’t expect to be doing much of. Thankfully, she ended up with the aisle seat, but her three companions were not excellent company. A mother sat beside her with a rather small baby cuddled up on her lap. The window seat was occupied by a rambunctious toddler who, Claire soon discovered, felt absolutely terrified by the thought of riding on a plane. 

As the flight progressed, Claire’s temper grew shorter and shorter. Normally, she was good with children. Or at least they didn’t piss her off to the point that she wanted to stuff their mouths full of candy so they would just be quiet. But today…today was a different story. The toddler continued to wail for most of the first hour of the flight. The mother offered Claire apologetic glances from time to time, but she didn’t seem all that bothered since she was occupied with the breast feeding of her baby. And then, only seconds after the toddler exclaimed that he felt a “big poop coming out,” the last straw occurred. The baby, in the process of burping, expelled a surprisingly large amount of spit up onto Claire’s sweatshirt. The cream colored liquid slowly slid down the cotton sleeve, the overwhelming smell of vomity breast milk wafting up into Claire’s nostrils. With every ounce of her being, Claire held the anger and frustration in. Obviously, this situation was not the baby’s fault – not even the mother’s. But her day had gone from bad to worse in a matter of seconds, and Claire only wished to let out a shriek. But, instead, she muttered, “Please, excuse me,” in quite the sarcastic tone, huffing and puffing on her way back to the tiny bathroom. 

Five minutes later, she exited the facilities. She had rinsed off the sleeve of her sweatshirt, but it was now too damp to comfortably wear. So, she had opted for the thin tank top underneath. That was better than smelling like baby puke, right? As she opened the door, Claire nearly ran into the flight attendant perched before her. “Yes?” she asked, staring the perky blonde in the eyes with a raise of her brow. 

“Ma’am,” the attendant began, her voice almost sickeningly sweet to Claire’s ears. “Your neighbor informed me of what happened, and she asked if there was anything we could do to make your flight more comfortable. In fact, we have a seat in first class that we would like to offer.” She flashed Claire a dazzling smile, obviously happy with this accommodation. 

Claire, to be fair, felt equally as happy. “Finally, something goes right for a change,” she answered. “Lead the way,” she then added, gesturing with her arm. As the flight attendant turned and headed down the aisle, Claire followed. Her sweatshirt folded and tucked up under her arm, she grabbed her purse from her previous seat, offering the mother of two a goodbye salute in the process. She and the blonde made their way through the aisle, heading for the first class section in the front. As they passed through the curtain, the attendant stopped and gestured towards the open seat on their right. “Your seat, ma’am,” she offered with a smile.

Claire, however, was a bit too stunned to comprehend her words. Instead, she was distracted by the fine specimen seated near the window of her new two person row. As she and the attendant had arrived, the man had turned to face them. Offering a brilliant smile, he reached out an arm and offered his hand to shake. Quite distracted by his waves of dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and chiseled jaw, Claire finally caught her breath and grasped his hand with her own. “I’m Henry,” he said, British accent showing with his words.  


Claire simply nodded in return, seemingly forgetting that she did, in fact, know how to speak. Letting his hand drop, she sat down, dropping her sweatshirt on the ground and kicking it underneath the seat. Laying her purse across her lap, Claire let let the breath she had been holding in out and replaced her blank stare with a smile of her own. “I’m Claire,” she finally replied, relaxing back into the comfort of first class. Maybe this ten hour flight wouldn’t be so dreadful after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire is a woman plagued with bad luck. That is, until she meets Henry on her flight to London. As a workaholic, she does not realize his celebrity status, yet she will soon find out the charming gentleman who had been seated beside her is more than just your Average Joe. With romantic complications in her past, a boss who pushes her limits, and a new found attraction to Mr. Henry Cavill, will Claire find herself in London or crash and burn instead?

Claire’s mother had always told her to dress to impress no matter the occasion, and she wished she would have listened to that advice at this particular point in time. For here she was, dressed in an old black tank top with a pair of yoga pants on her bottom half. Her dark brown hair wound up in a messy side braid, her face entirely sans makeup for the flight. Her lips were even chapped from the cold she had just gotten over. Next to her? A god among men. Seriously, she could almost see his chiseled muscles from beneath the light gray sweater he wore. And as she sat next to this man, her tattoo adorned arms began to develop goose bumps from the chill of the cabin. Of course, she hadn’t packed a blanket in her carry on; she hadn’t exactly expected for a small child to vomit all over her apparel. 

Henry. It was a nice name. A very British name in Claire’s mind, but she had no real grasp for which ones were just that and which were not. You see, it was her first time in London. Or it would be in ten hours, give or take thirty minutes. Claire held the position of an event planner, and very recently she had been hired to work with HOPE, a charitable organization which helped to raise research funds for children’s cancer. Given her current situation back in L.A., she had jumped at the opportunity to fly across the world and plan the gala that HOPE wished to put on. Without knowing much about the job or the people she would be working with, however, Claire didn’t really know what to expect. Nevertheless, she had hopped on that plane.

And so, here she was. Sitting quite pathetically next to this incredibly handsome, and seemingly charming, man. He had only said one thing to her thus far, but Claire assumed the charming part would come soon. Or at least it may if she had only looked a little more presentable. He must have noticed the goose bumps on her arms, for the next thing Henry did was offer her a blanket. “You look like you could use this,” he told her with a grin, handing over an incredibly soft, luxurious cream colored throw. First class really stepped things up. 

“Yeah, I ran into a few…complications,” Claire replied, accepting the blanket gratefully. She leaned forward slightly, placing the fuzzy material around her shoulders and wrapping it around her body somewhat. Relaxing back into her seat, Claire let out a sigh. Today had been trying thus far. 

“Bad day?” Henry asked. He leaned back in his seat, as well, though Claire could still feel his eyes on her.  


She positioned herself in a way so that they could exchange eye contact, arms still covered by the warmth of her newly beloved blanket. “You could call it a bad day, yes,” Claire admitted, tucking one foot up underneath her as she spoke.  


“And to think,” Henry replied, expression serious, “it’s only reached the hour of nine in the morning.”

Claire could tell he was teasing her even before the smirk appeared on his lips, his eyes crinkling at what he apparently found funny. She, however, was not so amused. “Have you been harassed by a man who thinks he’s your boyfriend, arrived late to the airport, and been vomited on by the time nine o’clock rolled around before?” she asked him, a snarky tone to her voice. As she spoke, his grin disappeared. “Not to mention I’ve accepted this job in which I’m going to plan a party for the rich and famous. Sure, it’s for a good cause, but I’m getting tired of dealing with all these ‘celebrities’ and their fanatic ways. I should have went to school for fuckin’ accounting or something where I didn’t have to deal with idiots.” Rolling her eyes, Claire shifted in her seat slightly, fully aware of how callous she came off. In all reality, she enjoyed her job. She was excited to work for a worthwhile organization. And she actually liked most of the celebrities she had met. But she was a woman whose mood switched with just a flick, and now was one of those times when her irritation peaked and couldn’t be brought back down. 

“Tell me how you really feel,” Henry responded, tone entirely serious once again. But when Claire glanced over at him, his expression read something quite different. Yet again, that smirk played at his lips. While Claire really felt as though she wanted to scream, another sound came out. A laugh. A silly sort of giggle that apparently was contagious since Henry soon joined in. 

As soon as she caught her breath, Claire shook her head slightly, obviously a tad embarrassed. “God, I’m sorry,” she told him, cheeks pink partly from laughing and partly from the shame. “You must think I escaped from the loony bin. I just…I’ve had a stressful day, but it’s gotten a lot better since I’ve sat down next to you.” 

“I’m glad to be of assistance,” Henry replied, reaching up as he ran a set of fingers through his dark curls. “Though I think it’s more my ability to control my stomach contents than myself in particular,” he added with a wink – a wink which caused Claire’s own stomach to, ironically, turn over. 

Claire let out a little gasp of a laugh, a noise which she soon wished had not left her mouth. God, could she be any more embarrassing? Wait, scratch that. She almost jinxed herself by thinking such a thing. “So what were you doing in the states?” Claire asked after a short pause in the flow of conversation, desperately wanting to turn the subject away from herself. “I assume you’re heading back home with that British accent and everything.”

“Just doing some work things,” he responded simply, one arm now laid on the armrest between them. “Nothing that exciting.” 

Claire, oblivious to his celebrity status, then asked, “Oh, what kind of field are you in?” If only she knew ahead of time, she may not have ranted about celebrities and their horrid ways only minutes before. Over the past year or so, though, she hadn’t had much time to herself let alone time to watch E! News or head out to the movies. She had been living in her own little world, it seemed, for Henry Cavill had grown to be a household name – or at least a household face. 

“I dabble in a variety of things,” Henry answered. Before she could respond or ask more, however, the flight attendant approached them, asking about what they would like as their in-flight meal among other things. For now, Claire remained clueless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire is a woman plagued with bad luck. That is, until she meets Henry on her flight to London. As a workaholic, she does not realize his celebrity status, yet she will soon find out the charming gentleman who had been seated beside her is more than just your Average Joe. With romantic complications in her past, a boss who pushes her limits, and a new found attraction to Mr. Henry Cavill, will Claire find herself in London or crash and burn instead?

About an hour had passed, and the conversation between Claire and Henry had continued. It was all fairly general chit chat; the sort of talk where hometowns, favorite movies, and the weather were discussed. Though she tried to hold it back, a huge yawn overtook Claire, and she realized she absolutely needed to get some rest. 

And so, an unknown amount of time later, Claire was awoken by a woman’s voice asking if she wanted lunch or not. “Huh?” she responded, still in a daze as she fluttered her eyes open. With her feet tucked underneath her, Claire’s head was resting against something firm, yet comfortable. As she realized where she was and who she was next to, she lifted her head up and instantly felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. She seemed to be doing that a lot these days. 

“Oh. Oh!” Claire exclaimed, glancing at Henry with a sheepish smile before turning to the flight attendant. “Yes. Yes, please.” She pulled the lap tray down so that the stewardess could set their food on top, reaching up to tuck a few bedhead hairs back behind her ears. 

When she turned to the row in front of them, Claire cleared her throat before looking at Henry. “I hope I didn’t snore,” she said, unfolding her napkin as she spoke.  


Henry smiled back at her, doing the same. “No snoring, no,” he began, smile growing. “But did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Claire could feel her eyes widen with his response, stuttering after a moment. “Oh…oh no, I didn’t.” Claire, unfortunately, did have quite the history of talking, and even walking, in her sleep when in unfamiliar places. “Oh God. What did I say? Don’t leave out any details!” She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Not only had she ranted to Henry upon meeting him, but she’d also slept against his shoulder, and potentially had discussed her deepest, darkest secrets while her body rested.  


Pulling her blanket around her shoulders, Claire reached for her fork and scooped up some mashed potatoes, waiting for Henry to respond. She did have a bit of a knot in her stomach, but she figured whatever she had subconsciously said couldn’t have been that bad, right? 

Wrong.

“Well, you were just mumbling at first. Really softly. It was pretty cute, actually.” Henry reached for his water, taking a sip before he continued. “But then, your words became clearer. I…well, I would say that something rather exciting was going on in that head of yours.” 

“Exciting? What do you mean by exciting?” Claire responded, that pit in her stomach growing as she spoke. Exciting couldn’t be good. 

Henry paused for a moment, eyebrows raising. “Are you sure you want to know?” he asked with a laugh. 

“Yes!” Claire set her silverware down, feeling the heat behind her cheeks start to build already. She couldn’t sit here without knowing. That would be even worse than whatever embarrassment was going to ensue. 

A crooked grin formed on Henry’s lips as he continued. “Well, it sounded like you were pretty impressed with someone. Someone named Henry, actually.” 

As Claire looked over at him, she knew her cheeks were now flaming. Her dream was, in fact, coming back to her now. And it certainly had been about a fellow named Henry. In particular, the one seated right beside her. “Oh…” she murmured softly, suddenly feeling more shy than she had ever remembered. “Are you, uh, sure that’s the name?” Claire asked, ever so apparent of the way his blue eyes were almost sparkling as he spoke. 

“Quite,” he responded, turning back to his tray as he took a bite of his potatoes. And just like that, the story had ended. Henry seemed perfectly amused by it all. Claire, however, was mortified. He had put two and two together for sure. 

“Well, you know,” Claire began to ramble, “I have a real thing for, uh, that actor…you know, Henry…oh…what’s his name?” Offering him a pathetic sort of smile, she continued. “You know…the one with the…the hair.” Quickly, she turned back to her tray and took a long sip of water. 

“Yeah, with the hair,” this Henry replied, voice soft as he also took a drink. Claire glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noticing that smirk still played on his lips. How could he be even more handsome when teasing her? How? “These potatoes are delicious, aren’t they?”

Obviously, Henry was trying to change the subject for her sake. “They’re wonderful,” she responded, ever so grateful for the distraction away from her steamy dream. Her luck, it seemed, had continued down that negative slope.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire is a woman plagued with bad luck. That is, until she meets Henry on her flight to London. As a workaholic, she does not realize his celebrity status, yet she will soon find out the charming gentleman who had been seated beside her is more than just your Average Joe. With romantic complications in her past, a boss who pushes her limits, and a new found attraction to Mr. Henry Cavill, will Claire find herself in London or crash and burn instead?

An odd thirty minutes or so later, the two had finished their meals. Claire, taking advantage of the fact that she was flying and not driving, had been sipping on a glass of whiskey. It calmed her nerves, something that she needed with the combination of embarrassment, stress, and anxiety she felt. Henry, apparently more responsible, opted for water. The pair had been sitting in a somewhat silent atmosphere, Claire continuing to rest with her cozy blanket wrapped around her shoulders. But, she was a talker, and she couldn’t stay silent for long. “You know, I’ve never been to London,” she mused, turning her head slightly to glance in Henry’s direction. Her legs were once more curled up beneath her body, arms wrapped close to keep the warmth in. “A friend warned me about the weather, seeing as I’m always cold.” Claire wrapped her blanket tighter at the thought. “And she also told me that the British can be quite rude, particularly to Americans. But that doesn’t seem to be the case…unless you’re just the exception.” 

With that, Henry let out a chuckle, turning his body slightly in his seat to face Claire. “It is a cold and dreary city at times, but there’s certainly a great deal of beauty and charm hidden beneath that fog and rain.” Claire smiled at this, obviously intrigued by the way he spoke with such particular choice of words. Were all British men like this? Or had she just had the good fortune of meeting an especially magnetic one? “The British…I suppose we can be rude. Though I think it’s safe to say that a handful of your own kind don’t know when to hold their tongues?” With a smirk, Henry reached for his water and took a slow sip. Claire nearly felt her jaw dropping. Something as simple as drinking…he made it look good. How was that even possible?

“Touché,” Claire responded simply. Americans, she imagined, were about as rude as people could get. Well, at least a great deal of the Americans she knew. Though, she imagined, it wasn’t quite fair to generalize any group of people like that. Maybe the world was just full of assholes with a rare gem shining through here or there.  


With that, she leaned her head back against her seat, turning forward as Henry began to scan through the movie selection. “Ahh, I love this one,” he said after a few moments. To Claire’s amusement, the one he selected turned out to be _Love Actually._ The holidays were coming up in just a couple of months, and so, the selection was perfect. Claire smiled, reaching for her own set of headphones to join in on the classic. 

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Claire…Claire, we’re here.” She felt a hand on her shoulder, rubbing her gently through the blanket which remained wrapped around her body. As Claire peeked her eyes open slowly, she found Henry to be staring down at her, an adorable smile present on his lips. Then, it dawned on her. They had arrived. In London. To the start of her job. And she still looked a mess. And had apparently slept for, like, eight hours. _What a fucking mess._

“Oh god!” she exclaimed, immediately jerking up out of her seat as she glanced frantically around the cabin. The plane was slowly descending, only a few hundred feet from touching the ground. She ran a set of fingers through her hair, knowing it was a mess of tangles that could not be tamed no matter her efforts. She pulled the blanket from around her shoulders, folding it up sloppily before setting it down between their seats. “Jesus Christ. What a mess,” she muttered to herself, reaching for her purse to grab the compact from within. On second thought, she set her purse aside, instead tucking her hand beneath her seat to grab her sweatshirt. That’s right…the sweatshirt that so happened to be covered in baby vomit. _Great._

Henry, apparently sensing her frustration from the exasperated moan that left her mouth soon after, came to the rescue. “Claire…Claire, calm down.” He placed a hand on her forearm, kind eyes looking her way. Claire hesitated for a moment, finally lifting her gaze to his. 

“I can’t wear a pukey sweatshirt.” 

“I know.”

“London is freezing in the fall, isn’t it?”

“It’s chilly, yes.”

“I didn’t plan very well. I have no coat.”

“Here.”

With that, his hands reached for the bottom of his sweater, swiftly pulling it over top of his head to reveal a plain black t-shirt underneath. Of course, it took Claire a moment to realize that he was, in fact, wearing something underneath that sweater. She had been distracted by the way the muscles in his arms seemed to ripple with the slightest movement. By the ‘ahem’ of a cough from the row across, she imagined a few other women had ogled, as well. 

“Have this,” he instructed, handing the article of clothing to Claire as though he couldn’t be bothered to part with it. “I’m used to the London air. I’ll be fine.” It was if he knew Claire would resist with the way he immediately ensured her that it was ok. And with the look he gave her, she knew she had no real option but to accept the sweater graciously.  


Pulling it over top of her head, Claire let the material fall over her shoulders and down around her hips. “Thank you,” she replied earnestly, adjusting the fabric against her. She swam in it – that much was quite apparent. But it felt soft and, most importantly, warm, so she didn’t mind. Plus, it smelled nice. She’d keep that part to herself. 

“Looks good on you,” Henry answered, standing as he swung an arm up and reached above for his carry on. He pulled it down in one swift motion once Claire stepped into the aisle. “Huge, but good,” he finished, shaking his head with a smirk as he set the bag down on the ground. 

Claire’s cheeks reddened with his words, obviously becoming much more susceptible to blushing than she had ever been before. She bent down to grab her purse, ignoring the sweatshirt that remained tucked beneath her seat. She didn’t want to see that thing again – she’d rather focus on the positives of this trip. For one, the handsome man standing next to her who just so happened to be casually ushering her down the aisle. Her luck? Maybe it was improving after all.


End file.
